


Mask of the Werewolf

by RobberBaroness



Series: The Ankh-Morpork Vampire Ball [1]
Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett
Genre: Collection: Purimgifts Day 1, Gen, Undercover, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-21
Updated: 2018-02-21
Packaged: 2019-03-22 06:25:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13758195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RobberBaroness/pseuds/RobberBaroness
Summary: The vampires are celebrating something.  That's never a good sign.





	Mask of the Werewolf

**Author's Note:**

  * For [melannen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/melannen/gifts).



There was something about being a werewolf that made masquerade balls seem rather quaint. Oh yes, you’ve put on a little feathered hair piece and a beaky mask, aren’t you totally transformed? Why, I never could have guessed you were Her Ladyship in such a cunning disguise! The overpowering smell of lavender water surrounding you like an out-of-fashion muffler didn’t give it away at all!

Another thing about being a werewolf was that you acquired a reputation for being no fun at all. What the humans didn’t know was that her family was quite capable of fun, and it had been a lifelong struggle to liberate herself from that idea of fun, and they should be pretty bloody grateful she wasn’t having fun at them all the time.

At the very least, she could usually relax a bit, but tonight even that was out of the question. Who in their right mind could relax when they were surrounded by vampires, none of whom cared to wear the Black Ribbon on their oh so clever costumes? But there had to be coppers at the masked ball because gossip all over town had it that the vampires weren’t just celebrating the sheer joy of being alive (sort of.) No, something important had gone down, and they had to find out how to stop it or put it back where it came from, depending on the situation.

The three coppers best acquainted with the Uberwald set had been sent, and the idea was that the costumes would allow some sort of attempt at cover. Angua personally wasn’t sure it was working so well, but better to act like it was than to just stand around glowering by the refreshments. (Hot cocoa, reassuringly, which meant at least some Black Ribbon contingent was there.)

She had put some effort into her Vena the Raven Haired outfit. She hadn’t even succumbed to the temptation to wear her Watch armor and call it a night! No, she’d put on false armor over her real armor, and the resulting level of comfort was not helping her sense of fun in the least. 

“May I have zis dance?” cut in an all-too-smooth tenor voice. Well, this was what she was supposed to be here for. She nodded her assent (not having decided whether to try faking the traditional accent or not) and stepped into a waltz with an acceptably handsome vampire. Not one she knew from the old country, or she’d have been able to smell it. Ballroom dance lessons from her youth reasserted themselves out of sheer muscle memory.

“Ve are so lucky to see zis night!” her dancing partner whispered. “I am counting every minute until ze stroke of midnight! Ve vill see a celebration the likes of vhich I have not been party to in centuries!”

Angua smiled beneath her mask. It wasn’t going to be much of a task to let a vampire deliver a prepared monologue. Assuming he didn’t follow the natural vampire tendency towards philosophical digressions, she could have her job over with in no time!

**Author's Note:**

> 


End file.
